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by pennamepal (glossmyeyes)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabble, Elricest, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 16:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glossmyeyes/pseuds/pennamepal
Summary: Ed's quiet breath fills the empty silence--if Al listens closely enough, he can almost imagine the gallop of their hearts synced as one. They beat to the same drum, always have, so why should this be any different?





	Home

  
It happens late--it happens, it _happens_...

Al can barely keep his tired eyes open; they're heavy, drooping, and it takes all he has to resist succumbing to the velvet drape of sleep. He has to, though. His brother is shaking. His brother is--

"Alphonse," Ed says, voice broken. "Sorry, Al. I'm s-sorry." He's crying again in his sleep, tossing and turning, thrashing under the covers as though they'll swallow him up otherwise. He's on the other bed in the guest room of the Rockbell's they've shared since they were kids and he looks so small, so scared, trembling his way through a nightmare.

Al's own bed is warm; it's a struggle parting ways with it. But part ways he does, tossing aside the fluffiest blankets money could buy (a homecoming gift from Winry) and hissing softly when his feet hit the cold wooden floor. He heaves himself up, bleary, stumbling over to Ed despite the moonlight pouring in just enough to leave the room palely aglow.

Ed is soaked in sweat, Al notices, settling in beside him. He slips an arm around his brother's waist, noticing the way his pinched expression relaxes almost at once. Ed's eyelids tremble; slits of hazy gold appear, staring, questioning. "Alphonse?"

"You were having a nightmare, Brother."

"I--you were--gone," Ed whispers, haunted, seeing straight through Al as though the darkness his silhouette is set against will drag him away bodily, once and for all. Ed is quiet for several long, agonizing moments, watching, waiting. "I had to transmute you back into the armor, only--you kept--falling apart. It was all my fault."

Al sighs, so mournfully, so gently that Ed's lids squeeze shut again. His own brother can't even bear to look at him. "Brother, I'm right here..." His hand reaches out without permission, stroking back the strands of Ed's sweat matted bangs. "I'm not going anywhere, alright? You and me, Brother. That's how it'll always be."

And there's a line there, intangiable, stiffly drawn. Al can see he's crossed it from the moment Ed begins trembling again, hands clenched into the bedsheets. "No, Al," he rasps out, flipping onto his back to glare at the ceiling. "We both need to settle into lives for ourselves now..." Gently now, tenderly, so sweetly, eyes of molten gold meet his own. "We should take advantage of the fact that we can."

And it's a testamount to his devotion, isn't it, that instead of leaning down with his mouth in search of a warmer, fiercer set of lips that Al would do anything to give his brother some peace of mind. That he will, that he'd always, set aside his own wants for something that Ed so desperately needs.

He doesn't want anyone else, is the problem. He's spent his whole life with someone he's always considered his other half--the smallest, most jagged piece of the puzzle of himself. They fit together, complement each other, and perhaps it's because he's spent the last few years of his life trapped inside a steel body that could only hold flimsy wisps of emotions that he's only just feeling that completeness now. Now, when Ed is ready to finally pull away, to leave him be, watch him grow, let their brotherly bond stretch and mold into something comfortable yet distant, normal, but not what Alphonse wants at all.

It's just that Ed needs it--deserves it. They've both made mistakes, but Ed always shoulders the blame with a sad little smile, protecting his little brother for things that they both need to take responsibility for.

"If that's what you want, Brother," Al finally says, drawing his arm away. He settles in on the bed; close, but not quite touching. "I'm perfectly happy with the way things are right now." Which isn't so much of a lie as it is an omission--they could be so much more. They could be all they needed to be for each other, because even though Resembool is where they grew up, home is simply wherever they are together.

And would it be so wrong? Would it be so terrible to discover that all he's ever needed is still next to him, sweaty and breathless and devastatingly beautiful in soft moonglow? Would it just be one more taboo to add to their roster, to lean over and gather that wounded body in his lean arms and never let go?

Ed's quiet breath fills the empty silence--if Al listens closely enough, he can almost imagine the gallop of their hearts synced as one. They beat to the same drum, always have, so why should this be any different?

"I'm scared, Al," Ed confesses, agonizes.

"Why?"

His other half is quiet again for so many moments that Al doesn't expect an answer. Then a palm, still sweaty, so warm, caresses his cheek with the pressure of a ghostly kiss. "I don't want to lose you again. Not in any way. Not to the portal, and...."

"And?"

So quietly does his brother reply, Al has to lean in--

"And not to some pretty girl, either."

"Ed," he starts, gasps, chokes--his mouth runs dry, tongue slicking over the top row of pearly white teeth nervously. "I wouldn't leave you behind for any girl, you have to know that by now. You're my blood; you're part of my soul. Nothing could change that."

And his brother looks at him, yellow eyes glowing in the dimness like an animal's, so full of unexpected _hunger_ that Al is thankful he's lying down already, lest he drop to his knees onto the unforgiving floor.

"I'm not saying I'd truly lose you, Al, but...there are some things I wish _I_ could give you, just so I don't have to watch anyone else do it for me. I want you, _all_ of you, to belong to _me_."

Al's heart sings, bursts; symphonies of heat siphon through his bloodstream so fast that he may as well go up in flames. His face, so expressive, gives away his shock--

Which Ed, the idiot, tiredly mistakes as disgust. "I thought so," he snarls, dejected, twisting his body away, blinking away the welling of hot, stinging tears in his eyes--

And Al catches his before he goes, snatches up his brother's thin right wrist and yanks, propelling Ed sideways, pulling, prodding, so that their lips can finally meet--

Moments later--seconds, hours, days, who knows--Ed is shirking away, gasping in heavy, open mouthfuls of oxygen and regarding Al in a way that screams of panicked disbelief. Of _wrong_. Of _sick, I'm sick, we're brothers and we just made out--_

"Ed," Alphonse says calmly, "it's okay. It really is. I want to be all yours, too. Always have been. It isn't wrong or right; it just _is_." He takes his brother's pinched off face between his hands, kisses that sharp-tongued mouth one more time and adds, "so just let it be. We'll figure it out as we go along. It's what you do best.

And his brother--smiles. "What _we_ do best, you mean."

The rest of the night, and maybe the rest of their nights together hopefully, will be as simple as this. Loving someone else so much that no matter where you are--no matter if you burned your house down to the ground long ago--as long as they are there, you are home.


End file.
